


Goodbye

by Marbot457



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Kinda, M/M, Riddles, i cried so many times man, i listened to lots of sad music and this happened, im so sorry, not too bad, sorta - Freeform, the end got me like, why
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 13:24:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marbot457/pseuds/Marbot457
Summary: Edward has gotten himself into a really bad situation, here are his thoughts and 'last' words.





	Goodbye

"My namesake is inherently good -" Edward choked out as he lay in a puddle of his own blood, "But in most cases I leave you feeling less so, what... am I." A bit of a stretch to be a good riddle but it was the best he could come up with while he was in this predicament. 

Some may wonder as to why he would utter a riddle at this moment but to Ed it made sense, in some strange convoluted way. The fact that perhaps someone may have heard it and will puzzle over it until the inevitable moment of insight. An Aha! moment. Like an inside joke whispered between friends. 

He groaned, and his shoulder only throbbed as more blood came rushing out - gunshot wound, the bullet lodged somewhere inside from what he could tell - it was only one of the two wounds he was worried about. Not that worrying could really do anything for him now, for he was most certainly on his way to the cold empty void of Death. That is certainly bothersome, he thought a little hysterically dying was not in the agenda but c'est la vie, I can't distress about that now. 

What was more bothersome, perhaps, was the fact that he was going a bit numb in both of his arms and legs. He couldn't allow his motor skills to weaken, death would not also take away his dignity, if he had anything to say about it.

He sat up slowly so as to not irritate his painful wounds and as the seconds ticked by he eventually found himself in a hunched over position, just slightly better than where he had been beforehand.

Edward let out a ragged breath as he began to drag himself towards the disgusting alley wall, for he was certainly not going to asphyxiate on the torrent of rain, or even worse - his own blood. 

This brought his mind back to his second wound, a single bullet right into his stomach, a fatal wound if he ever saw one. Every breath was agony, and yet he knew he deserved every bit of pain he got. It seemed fitting at least, being killed by the way he had himself murdered his best friend.

Oh Oswald… If only you could see me now. You’d probably enjoy it, seeing me brought down by some common street thug. He thought bitterly.

His vision was steadily darkening around the edges, he could barely see anything anymore, especially with that darned rain streaking past his face. The cold seeped in through his soaked green suit - ruined no doubt - not that he'd get a chance to wear it again anyways. His eyes stung but he couldn't tell if it was with tears or with the pelting rain - his glasses long gone by this point. 

Everything hurt, there was so much… Pain. He bleakly wondered if this is what Oswald felt after Edward shot him. Probably.

I don’t want to die, one part of his mind thought deliriously. 

But... you deserve it, after all this must certainly be only HALF the pain that our dear Oswald must have been feeling, hm? You. deserve. this, Said the darker, more cynical part of his mind. The part that had been haunting him for the past couple of months, calling itself ‘The Riddler’. Asshole, he thought snidely. 

His situation was not convenient in the least, and it was certainly not looking optimistic as precious minutes slipped away. There could be worse ways to die, he guessed, like, say for instance, being shot by your fucking best friend after confessing his love for you. 

Yeah, there were definitely worse ways to die. It was inevitable is what it was, it probably would've happened sooner or later considering everything. The drugs, the violence, and a penchant for guns and pissing people off certainly weren't going to do him any favors in the future. 

All things considering, this was a pretty tame way to die. It still didn't mean he wasn't disappointed or upset by the fact. He could've done so much more...

He wonders how he got to this point for a moment, before laughing weakly, a decision he immediately regrets due to the sudden burning sensation in his abdomen. 

Fuck. The darker part of his mind supplies that it was an inevitable outcome, he of course, knows this, but he had needed to be here, needed those drugs desperately. To see Oswald, because he lo - no, needed to see him, to hear him say that Edward was nothing without him, because it was the truth. 

Oswald had been an integral part of his rise to power and his heart ached whenever he thought of all the beautiful things they could've have achieved. All the things they could've done, the things they could've been...

That’s all it was, hm? Interrupted the unwanted resident asshole in his subconscious, You don’t seem so sure about that, dearest Eddie. Care to share with the class what it is you’re really feeling?,. 

What he was really feeling? What he was really feeling was a deep sadness and - resentment - with undertones of aching dissatisfaction.  
His thoughts were a jumbled mess at this point but one thought kept poking out among the rest. He could have died in any unsavory place, but of course it had to be this one, this extremely unfortunate stain in Gotham, among others. The one he just so happened to frequent quite often.

He had been coming here for a couple of weeks, it was the drop zone that his, well, ‘drug dealer’, had designated to drop one of the key components in his hallucinogenic cocktail, for lack of better words. Though it seemed tonight that fate had decided to finally cut his seemingly endless supply of luck, after all, this was Gotham that he lived in, which isn't even safe in the daytime, let alone at night. 

He honestly should have known better than to came alone, which brings it all back to the bane of his mistakes, he should have known better. He should have known better than to go out in the early hours of the morning in Gotham, he should have known better than to take the damnable drugs in the first place, he should have known better than to kill his only true friend in the world.

I’ve made a right mess of things as myself and as The Riddler, and I didn't even get to the good stuff yet, he thought blearily, referring to the wonderfully chaotic bombings and various riddles he had conjured up for his little pawn, Lucious Fox. Alas, most of his ideas would be lost forever, which was a tragedy in its own standard.

But… His thoughts were unceremoniously dragged to the emptiness in his heart that had been haunting him for awhile. Possibly the worst thing out of all of this was that Oswald would never know… 

Never know how he actually felt. Never know that Edward had, in a drug induced haze, confronted his feelings and found himself constantly agonizing over what could have been. Never know that, yes, Oswald had fucked up but that Edward forgave him. Never know that Edward loved him back.

His breathing, which had previously been tearing his lungs apart with the ferocity of it, was beginning to slow - leaving him nearly breathless. 

The pain by now was absolutely unbearable, in mind body and heart, and he just wanted to die already, but of course the universe just had to throw a wrench into his death, of all things.

He was shaking in the freezing rain, blinking slower and slower until his eyes unwillingly closed, all hope completely lost and death nearly on his doorstep, when he heard a heartbreakingly familiar voice call out to him.

Since he couldn't move, he heard rather than saw splashing as the familiar voice frantically made it's way towards Edwards’ prone form. He felt arms cradling him and all he could do was think, Wow this is one hell of a hallucination, because it couldn't be the real Oswald. Could it?

It didn't make sense. None of his hallucinations had ever been able to touch him, especially in such a gentle way…

It must be his feverish brain trying to provide him one last service, and he wasn't about to complain, better to die in the pretend arms of the person you love rather than the -much colder- alternative. But, as usual, his brain was working overdrive trying to supply a plausible explanation for such a nice hallucination when he suddenly thought, What if… what if this is real and this is actually happening - not a hallucination?

As his thoughts caught up with his brain he was brought back to the present at the sound of upset mumblings of this 'Possibly Real’ Oswald, most of it within the parameters of, “Wake up Edward, please you have to wake up, you aren't dead, you can't be dead, please!” 

At the desperate ‘please’ Edward cracked open his eyes to one of the most wondrous sights he'd ever seen. Oswald, alive and with tears in his eyes, was cradling Edward in his lap and stroking his hair, much like the way he had when Butch attacked him at The Sirens. 

“Oh thank God!” Oswald cried in relief, brushing his thumbs across Edward’s cheekbones. Edward was, well - confused by the act of affection- but he couldn't dawdle, his time was running out and he really needed to use this miraculous second chance to tell Oswald what he couldn't bring himself to say earlier in their friendship. 

“O-oswald, 's it really you?” He slurred out in his pained state, a smile drifting across his features as he slowly raised his hands to latch onto Oswald's arms.

Oswald let out a wet sounding laugh, still caressing Edward's face saying, “Yes it's me, Ed, it’s me. As much as I would like to take vengeance on you right now and watch you suffer, I can't very well enjoy it if you're dead, now can I?” He asked, as if scolding a small child. 

Edward, still caught up in the absurdness of it all, could only stare back - albeit slightly slack jawed in wonder as Oswald's silly tones continued to gently chide him.

“I can't believe you of all people got yourself into such a situation with that brilliant brain of yours. You never were too concerned about your own safety were you? We really must fix that, Ed.” Oswald's voice then tightened slightly as he seemingly took in Edward's extensive injuries, “But first, it seems that we must get you out of here - to a hospital so they can fix you right up, okay?” 

Oswald made as if to stand, but Edward with the resolution that, no, you have to hear me out first burning foremost in his mind, used the last of his strength to hold onto the other man, making sure that he wouldn't be able to move. This of course caused Edward to nearly pass out - his shoulder spasming in pain - as his vision went white and a slight scream came tumbling out of his mouth.

Oswald immediately abandoned all attempts to get up at this and once more lay his warm hands on Edward's face, concern and fear prominently shining through his eyes. “Edward! Ed, darling we have to get you proper medical help, please I fear to think about what will happen if you don't get any soon, please my dear we have to go  
now.” he pleaded urgently, still gently holding Edward as if he were a fragile treasure. 

At this, the bleeding man shook his head rapidly, “N-no! No. At least not yet Oswald. Not until I tell you… I have to… Gotta tell you… b-before 's too late.” 

Oswald’s expression turned panicked as the delirious man prattled on, “I know it looks bad, Os. I know I m-messed up. You must know how much I grieved for you. You, m-my only friend. You… I made me better, made me stronger, and not just in terms of power or my up and coming as the Riddler.” This was it. Edward sighed sadly because this was certainly not how it should have been, him dying and Oswald left to pick up the pieces, it simply wasn't fair. But, he made it this far so no turning back now.

I-I didn't want to believe you when you told me you loved me and when I s-shot you I … I missed you so much, my Oswald, so much, I-I-I couldn't … I can’t-” he gasped as his ragged breathing prevented him from talking any longer. 

Oswald held Ed closer to his chest, allowing a dull warmth to envelope the both of them, as they looked desperately into each other's eyes. 

Edward couldn't help but marvel at the fact that Oswald's eyes were stunning, the most perfect shade of blue he'd ever seen, though perhaps he was biased. He thought nearly everything about Oswald was beautiful at that moment. A couple of seconds passed as Edward’s breathing evened out to a point where he could speak again.

“I couldn't live with myself after what I did to you… Took drugs… Did bad things… I need you,” he admitted with a sad sigh, “Oswald… 'm sorry... I didn't want to kill you… and I know you hate me and will probably n-never forgive me but...” he looked at Oswald with tears in his eyes, “I love you…” his voice wavered at the end, the struggle to speak eventually becoming too much for him.

Oswald stared at him for what felt like an eternity, until he sighed, “Oh Edward…” Oswald said tearfully, wiping the sneaky tears cascading down Ed's face, with matching tear tracks on his own flushed cheeks. 

“Oh my dear Edward, I've tried to deny it… tried to burn it out of my mind, and I should hate you for what you did, I should want you  
dead.” the raven haired man nearly stopped, too choked up in the moment but it needed to be said. 

“But once again... You are the exception Edward Nygma, and against all odds, against everything that my mind is trying to tell me… I Iove you too. I love you my dearest friend, my fantastic mystery. You have my heart, my brilliant Edward.” he exhaled his former friend's name like a prayer.

That's all Ed needed and more, it warmed him down to his very core and he felt content to just lay there and stare into those captivating blue eyes in that grimy passageway forever. That is until he winced, grimacing - overcome by a nauseating amount of pain as he was suddenly picked up and carried a couple of paces before being placed into a dry and rumbling vehicle. 

He was laid out on leather seats, to weak to move as he heard Oswald shout muffled orders to the driver. His head was set to rest in Oswald's lap and he let out a pained groan whenever his stomach twinged too badly.

For a moment he could feel the tremors in Oswald's body, feel the place where Oswald was carding warm fingers through his hair, feel the water droplets sliding down his face, he could still feel all the blinding pain, he could feel his heart swell with hope and love, and then, finally, unconsciousness took him.

His last thought was, I guess sometimes Goodbyes are necessary to get you to where you need to be. Fuck the past and every bit of betrayal and pain we have put each other through. Right now, I would do anything to get back to my Oswald, to my Home.

 

.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, first 'fic' I guess but I just needed this to be out there with all the fucking angst happening this season like holy shit. ;'''')  
> I'm so scared for the season finale like y'all don't even knOW but this fic has been sorta therapeutic so im just crying its all FINE HAH.
> 
> Also did you guys get Ed's riddle? the answer is the title (btw i made it myself so that's why its hella obscure)
> 
> There may or may not be more chapters depending on the feedback so reviews are GREATLY appreciated ;)


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